


No One Goes After Her

by Taaroko



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s02e13 A Cold Day in Hell's Kitchen, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 15:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12962391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taaroko/pseuds/Taaroko
Summary: Daredevil S2 finale. Frank didn't go there to save Red. He went there to save Karen Page.





	No One Goes After Her

**Author's Note:**

> So I finished The Punisher last week, and it didn’t even occur to me to ship Kastle in Daredevil S2 (somehow), but now I’m completely gone for these two. I’m rewatching all of Marvel Netflix pretty much just to remind myself of any details I might need for the post-Punisher Kastle fic I’m writing (because my memory is garbage), but in the meantime, “A Cold Day in Hell’s Kitchen” sparked an idea for a one-shot.
> 
> Frank showing up to shoot some ninjas at just the right moment always bugged me. He knew nothing about the Hand or Matt’s beef with them, and we got nothing to explain how he found out and ended up there. It mostly feels like giving Frank a cameo in his skull vest in the final fight was just an unsuccessful, slapdash attempt to fix the painful disjointedness the Punisher storyline and the Hand storyline suffer from for the entire season. But now that I am Kastle trash, I figured it out. Frank didn’t go there to save Matt. He went there to save Karen. Yes. Allow me to explain this theory with a fic.

Frank had finally gone back to his house. It had lain empty since that day in April, mail piled in front of the door, toys not cleaned up, dishes on the table for a meal that was never eaten. Being there was a much different kind of grief than gunning down the men responsible. The house might have an abandoned feeling to it, but it was full of the echoes of everything good in his life. All the happy memories that he couldn’t think about anymore without coming back to the carousel. But he made himself think about them, at least while he was there. Maria, Frank Jr., and Lisa.

His work wasn’t done. Schoonover was dead, but there were other members of the Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the cartel still breathing. He would find them, down to the very last man, and put them down with the Blacksmith’s own arsenal. And they were gonna know it was him. That’s what the skull vest was for.

He had one stop to make before he resumed his mission. Some piece of him had died when Karen Page had shouted that he was dead to her. She’d been the only person since the shootout to give a damn about what happened to his family besides him, and that piece of him had wanted to hold on to that. But she’d already nearly been killed twice for getting too close to him, for caring and refusing to back down until she had the truth. This way was better.

But he couldn’t bring himself to start hunting down those shitbags until he made sure she was doing okay. So he went to her apartment. He didn’t plan to get close enough to find out whether she’d stick that .380 in his face again, but that was before he saw the broken boards at her fire escape window. Fear shot through him, then almost immediately sparked into white-hot rage. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. He was up the fire escape and jumping inside in seconds, gun out. He stared frantically around, checked the kitchen and the bathroom, but the place was empty.

Frank slowed down a fraction, taking in the details. The walls that had been shredded by bullets weeks ago were spackled over but not repainted, but there were two fresh slashes through one corner. Looked like they’d been made by swords. He was not remotely comforted by the thought that _this_ threat apparently had nothing to do with him. He should’ve realized that a woman who could get right in the face of the goddamn Punisher and shove a photo she’d stolen from his house under his nose was perfectly capable of pissing off other very dangerous people.

Not descending into a blind panic was difficult. He had no leads except that whoever took her this time used _swords_ , and it wasn’t like he could ask her neighbors. One look at Frank Castle, the man they probably thought was responsible for all the bullets in their walls, and they’d start screaming and calling cops.

He went back to the hole-in-the-wall apartment he’d been using as his base of operations and started flipping through the channels on the police scanner. House arrest violation. Drug bust. Hit and run. Bodega holdup. Bar fight. Frank was about to chuck the scanner at the wall and start running up and down the streets until he found her when, “ _10-13, officer down! 36th and 7th! They stuck him with a goddamn arrow!_ ” Then there was a _thwack_ and a grunt of pain from the terrified officer, and dispatch sent out the call for backup.

Didn’t seem likely there were multiple groups going medieval on New York at the same time, so these assholes were probably the right ones. They were gonna regret using swords and bows. Frank threw on the skull vest, grabbed the Barrett MRAD, double-checked the cartridge on the Para 1911 on his hip, and stashed his KA-BAR down his boot. He’d have preferred taking more weapons, but he had no idea how long it had been since they grabbed Karen, and he wasn’t wasting another second on prep time.

By the time he arrived at 36th and 7th, there was a whole fleet of police cars parked outside of one of the buildings, and they had its exterior lit up like Christmas. Nobody was looking towards the shadows across the street, so he was able to get pretty close. It wasn’t just police standing there; there were also a bunch of terrified civilians. He spotted a patch of strawberry blonde in the mix and his breath caught. The head turned and he saw her face. It was Karen. She was safe. Didn’t even look hurt.

The fear drained out of him, but not the rage. He turned his gaze on the building the cops were focused on. There weren’t any dead guys with swords or bows that he could see, but he was going to fix that. Just because Karen wasn’t in danger anymore didn’t mean they weren’t gonna pay for what they did. He went into the empty building across the street from where the action was going down and got up to the roof as quickly as he could.

From there, he had a clear view of some crazy-ass shit. Ninjas. A whole pack of ninjas, more of them dead or groaning on the ground than not, and Red was there, cradling a dying woman in his arms in front of the four guys still standing. His helmet had gotten knocked off, and Frank let out a snort of humorless laughter at the sight of Matthew Murdock’s face. He’d suspected the blind lawyer was Red from the moment he woke up to the familiar voice in the hospital, and that bullshit speech he spouted off in the courtroom about how the city needed heroes had clinched it. He’d wondered before if Karen knew, but considering the way Murdock was holding this other woman right now, he doubted it. Maybe this was Murdock’s one bad day, then, and he was finally done with half-measures. Frank found himself regretting that. He wouldn’t wish his own existence on anyone.

The guy closest to Murdock and the dead woman got back to his feet. Unlike everyone else up there, he wore a long coat, and he was holding a dripping sai. He was the one who’d killed her, then. Probably the boss. He stalked over to the four standing ninjas, who started to close in on Murdock. Frank bared his teeth in a smile and took aim with the Barrett. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, he just knew that Murdock was gonna get his shot at the man who killed the woman he loved, and he was gonna give it to him. The people on the street screamed at the sounds of gunfire, and the four ninjas dropped within seconds. Frank nodded in satisfaction. Murdock went after the guy in the coat and laid into him. Frank didn’t know how their fight had gone before he showed up, but Murdock had him on the ropes now. He beat him all the way back to the far side of the roof, picked up his billy club (must be a new one, ‘cause the one he’d used on Frank sure couldn’t do what this one was doing), and sent him flying over the edge for a six-story drop.

Frank looked down at the street. The only person who wasn’t on the ground with their hands over their heads was Karen Page. She stood tall, and she was looking straight at him. He almost thought he saw her smile, but he must be imagining it. No way she sent that smile his way again. He looked back at Murdock. “See you around, Red.”

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd write MCU fanfiction, but then Kastle happened. I hope you guys liked it.


End file.
